The clatter of metal spoons against heavy iron trays created a rhythmic backdrop of sound inside the communal mess hall, providing a strange sense of normalcy after the electrical hazard in the workshop. Delon sat at the far end of a scarred wooden table, his fingers wrapped tightly around the cold edges of a metal container holding his meager food ration. The air inside the large cavern was thick with the smell of boiled root vegetables, scorched synthetic oil, and the unmistakable, raw warmth of a hundred crowded bodies. A soft, blue glow from the overhead frequency transmitters washed over the long tables, casting deep shadows across the faces of the rebel fighters eating around him.
"You should eat the gray broth before the surface vibration settles the dust into it," Erica said, sl
